


Collecting Strays

by flecksofpoppy



Series: Poppy's Adventures in Night Ficcing [20]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ficlet, Gen, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Parent Death, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6358933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flecksofpoppy/pseuds/flecksofpoppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr anon prompt for jeanmarco: "owning a cat together"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collecting Strays

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: loss of a parent

The cat started as an attempt for Jean to share, since he was never very good at that, even as a kid.

Domestic cats had mostly been wiped out by the time of the breach of Wall Maria, given the lack of food and attention, but some people still kept them as pets.

It was strange that Jean’s mother—who’d always been a steadfast, practical woman, left alone by her absent husband—had decided to adopt an actual cat that they kept in the house. But there was something strange about Mrs. Kirschstein that always earned them wayward stares out in the street, even if no one ever said anything openly since she had an excellent reputation amongst the neighbors.

The wayward stare, though, was that she was headstrong and outspoken.

= = =

Marco laughs; the sky is blue and it’s a rare calm day.

There’s a cat climbing determinedly over his gear, pressing dull claws into leather, determined to get into his lap. Marco pats her.

“She must be 20 by now, no?” he asks, looking up at Jean as he helps the small calico cat into his lap. She just meows low in her throat, as if she’s irritated at the assistance, but accepts it.

Jean snorts and rolls his eyes a little, but his lips twitch as he watches his childhood pet disintegrate into purring on his best friend’s lap.

His more-than-best-friend, as of about a year ago.

In his head, vaguely, he hears Eren’s smug voice say: “Took long enough.” The one time he’ll admit Jaeger was right about something unrelated to the battlefield.

The first time he admitted to himself he was in love with Marco was when he chased a lizard in a dry canyon, and someone besides his mother rebuked him.

“It’s really hard,” Marco is saying suddenly, his hand on Jean’s shoulder as the cat continues to purr, content on Marco’s lap as Jean collapses next to him.

He’s a commander in the Survey Corps, and he’s practically crying, embarrassed.

Marco turns his face to kiss Jean’s temple gently, grabbing his hand to place it on the cat’s back. She immediately turns onto her back in Marco’s lap, twisting languidly and exposing her underside to Jean.

= = =

“Jeanbo loves that cat more than your son loves pie.”

Mrs. Kirschstein is not known for tact, but she is honest; somehow, it makes up for the at-times-painful commentary.

The woman from across the street gapes; at age 10, Jean just ignores the scene, playing with Delilah on the other side of the room.

“What a shame,” Jean’s mother remarks pleasantly as she stands to pour more tea for herself and her guest, “that the ingredients for pie crust are so scarce these days.” She approaches the table again with the kettle in hand and neatly pours some hot water into the cup, reusing both teabags. “As you say, silly indulgences are to be approached with caution.”

Words are tight after that, and the woman leaves, obviously fuming with offense but not saying as much.

Jean continues to play with Delilah, until his mother says, “Would you rather have a cat, or dessert?”

“Cat.”

= = =

“Captain Kirschstein, what should we do with this cat? She won’t leave.”

Jean blinks, watching as his mother’s house is emptied; the cat is rubbing around his legs, and he shakes his head.

He’s about to pick her up, until Marco comes up behind him and does it instead.

“The cat is mine,” Marco shouts to the officers, and then they go about their business.

He turns to Jean, Delilah in his arms, and says, “I have this awful habit of picking up strays.”

He wouldn’t have said it five years ago.

Jean wouldn’t have replied, “I know.” But it’s now, and they’re both still alive in the Survey Corps, and everything is okay.

“She could live another five years,” Marco remarks.

And Jean smiles a little, his lips curling against his will with a shrug, replying, “So could I.”

Damn strays.


End file.
